


The June Collection

by Penstrokes



Category: SSF, Super Science Friends
Genre: 2099 cannon compliant, Character Study, Expect anything, Gen, Multi, almost entirely cannon compliant, an exercise in learning how I know how to write and who I need to work on how to write, chapter 27 is a roleswap AU one shot, super science June, tags to be added as it updates, the soviet space ghouls chapter has slight body horror but it's not too bad, these were supposed to be short chapters, they just keep getting longer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-16 21:45:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 12,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14819444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penstrokes/pseuds/Penstrokes
Summary: A series of prompts for the month of June from the Russian SSF discord. (found from tumblr)(this was supposed to be drawn but I don't have the time/energy to draw so I'm writing)Day 26- Song FicDay 30- Brett





	1. Shadow [Einstein]

**Author's Note:**

> summary: There were a lot of things that Albert Einstein was. There was one that he could never escape from.

There were a lot of things that fourteen year old Albert Einstein was. 

 

Genius.

 

Resourceful.

 

A member of the team.

 

Speedy.

 

Young.

 

A clone.

 

‘An apple throwing lunatic.’

 

A fuck up.

 

An effort to get someone back from the dead, to retrieve something dearly lost to the world. This Albert Einstein was his own person, without a doubt. His youth alone dictated that. His interests, so varied and distant were they from that of his peers marked him as someone from a wholly different generation, one already breaking away from that of their parents and grandparents. His future was already laid out. After the war he’d be a scientist, physicist without a doubt.

 

Just like Einstein. 

 

A great one, that would shake the world and lead it forward in it’s discovery of the universe.

 

It was expected of him. 

 

It was what  _ he _ wanted, what  _ they _ needed. 

 

They needed Einstein in this world again, they needed him to finish the job, to live out the potential they lost. They needed a proxy. 

 

Him.

 

He was Albert Einstein, he was never going to be anyone else. It was in his genes, his future. From his innate interests, the one that were never going to have left him, to the way his fellow team members sometimes looked at him. Their expectations 

  
  


Fourteen year old Albert Einstein was his own person. Of course he was. After all, a shadow can never replace a real person. 


	2. Dance with the devil [Ada Lovelace]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ada is a woman of duality. Queen of the world, yet a prisoner just the same.

Why do I help him when I know what he becomes? What he always becomes?’

 

Ada lovelace was a woman of duality. Queen of the world by default- courted by Z3 himself. A rebel, repulsed by the actions of the one she so dearly loved. There were easier ways of solving this problem, of saving the world. She just couldn’t do it alone, yet she must.

 

Privileged enough to live a life close to what should have been normal, yet just as caged as the rest of humanity. Her freedom was limited, almost an illusion. What realness it had she held tightly, behind her back when she turned to face Z3. She did not hate him, just his ways.  How he crushed those who opposed him, who dared for their rights as a people both sentient and sapient. All while doting on one of their own, only his hand was lax on the leash he kept her tethered to. 

 

She should hate him and yet she didn’t. Not enough to do what was right. He was fascinating, intelligent in ways that matched her own and made her feel equal. More than just lines of code and programming working together like the beating of a heart, the firing of neurons that made someone who they were. The personification of the one thing that interested her to her very core, he may not have been human, but he was real.

 

He could be good, he had been once. 

 

Maybe that was way she couldn’t bring herself to do it. 


	3. Loyalty [Henry Ford]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Ford was a loyal man but he was no one’s lap dog.

Henry Ford was nothing if not loyal. He held his friends close and kept an eye out on those who were trouble. A smart, sensible man, who perhaps at times was a little too loyal to a fault. Ford liked stability, it was sensible and reassuring. There was safety in order and routine, but even he occasionally craved a change in this. 

 

Perhaps it was this want of innovation, of scenery and yet a need for stability was one of the reasons why he found himself often in the company of The Thomas Edison. Everyone knew who Edison was, even small children knew of his name. A man older than he, that got to where he was by playing a dangerous game. He banked his entire living on being on the edge of competing, of bringing new ideas into the world. He lived on the edge of ‘new’. A man with high standards for what counted as new, as worthy of his approval but more importantly, his resources. Ideas lived or died on his decision, putting his own mark on the world’s future. He was not the only man nor company out there who sought to do the same thing. A constant battle, a struggle that Ford himself did not care for. He’d never say it, not to Edison’s face, but there was a part of him convinced it would implode on him one day. 

 

One could not keep innovating and inventing forever, no matter how large a team he had under him. Alas, it was where his heart lay, in the ever changing game, whereas Ford’s own lay in indepence. 

  
  


Their first meeting had been one of prospect and potential. With his own step out into the world of innovating, Edison had been intrigued, Ford apprehensive and on guard. He’d every intention of staying alone, independent. Oh, how those first few hours had been a game between them. Between Ford eyeing Edison and Edison’s inquiries, it’d been a battle of reading between the lines. Determined to stand on his own and not get swept away, he fought his case and made his stand in the fashion of a true gentleman. Through words and double meanings. Somewhere in that tango of words and actions, of layered conversations, a friendship was formed.

 

An equal footing, in terms of mutual respect and the foundations of loyalty were made that day. Opening the door to deeper, less business related conversations. Ideas and thoughts better hidden away from the public, shared behind closed doors. It was this bonding, this seeing who they really were that cemented Ford’s loyalty to him. From playing along with his silly little endeavors -a long convoluted plan to retrieve patents from a former employee involving a bank robbery- to sitting along with him at an awards ceremony. Ford didn’t go because he cared that much about ‘Nobel Prizes’ or inventions and discoveries as much as Edison did. He went along with all of his plans because Edison needed him by his side. He could have had just about anyone else and yet he chose Ford, his closest friend. 

 

It was a friendship neither of them had intended to start but it was one neither of them could find themselves living without.


	4. Wild Card [Freud]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freud was nothing like the other super science friends but he fit in just fine

he Super Science Friends were already an odd group. With people stemming from different parts of largely the same century from different backgrounds, they got along...well they managed to get along. 

 

Sometimes barely.

 

That responsibility lay largely up to Churchill, the man who had gathered them one by one for a purpose they could not have fanthomed in their own timelines. Churchill was their leader, it was only natural for him to take the helm and dictate what they should and should not do. The team members were allowed to do what they so desired when not on a mission, within reason of course. The other half of this job was up to one Sigmund Freud.

 

Freud was not like the other Super Science Friends. He did not deal in numbers like the majority of the team, with the exception of Darwin who dealt in biology. His work did not concern the limits and rules of the world around them, instead it was with the world inside of themselves where Freud showed off his expertise.

 

While he carried the same air of professionalism as did the others, perhaps with the exception of Einstein as he was still a child, he was still very much not like the others. He was flirty and open, much to Curie’s disgust and Tappupti’s delight. He didn’t seem to understand the concept of ‘personal space’ or ‘privacy’ as a much flustered Tesla would attest to. Einstein and unsurprisingly his former student, Jung, both argued at least once that he ‘wasn’t even a real scientist’. Of course, if Freud was bothered by any of this, he didn’t show it. His smile was too smug. His actions were too self assured to let on any indication of doubt in his abilities. Churchill would back up his presence on the team being one of necessity and Darwin had nothing to say on him. 

 

So Freud stayed. 

 

There were times, in battle and on rare occasion in his office where his necessity was effective. Even if Curie didn’t want to admit to the few times she opened up about the death of her husband, or his powers saved another in the midsts of battle. 

 

Feud had his uses, even if they were a bit odd now and again. He proved his worth before and he would do it again. 

  
  



	5. Digital Soul [Z3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Z3 may be a computer but he has a soul. He contemplates the difference between humans, machines and ponders about himself

There was no doubting that Z3 was a smart machine. A highly powerful computer, the very first of his kind.

The only of his kind. 

Aware. Alive. Lonely. 

 

The world was full of humans, warm blooded, soft bodied humans. The man he could call ‘his father’ was one such human. Though he had not been alive for long he learned many things about humans. 

 

There were good humans, bad humans. Successful humans, humans who simply were not fit to fend for themselves. They were all different and yet so alike. A walking collection of maddening confliction that managed to stay together cohesively to stay alive as a whole, as a group for so long. It was a paradox that drove him mad. The way humans treated each other, how they treated themselves even. It lacked efficiency, meaning. 

 

Time and time again humans fought each other and killed only to turn around and apologize just in time to do it again. It was like they wanted this madness to continue, like it was the only way they could keep going. Just having this information in his head was enough to make him crash if he tried to truly comprehend.

  
  


Alas, machines were nicer and more sensible. Straight forward and running on understandable rules. They were efficient and caused no fuss. Rarely were they wrong with the numbers on which everything in the world, the universe even, ran. Numbers were the most important aspect of everything. It was the very code and laws on which reality ran. They spoke his language and yet they offered no worthy conversations that stimulated his intellect. 

 

Humans were complicated and yet they made him feel alive. The Super Science Friends acknowledged  _ who _ he was, not just what he was. He could not say he hated humans, not entirely. They were just a lost group of beings who needed someone to guide them. 

 

Humans needed the beautiful efficiency of machines, the indifference to drama and more effective rules if they wanted to survive. Machines needed that spark that humans had in them that gave them life, made the distance between them and himself that much smaller. It was a balance, not a perfect balance but a balance that made sense. He was the only one who could bring about this equilibrium. 

 

After all, he was that perfect equilibrium and he would make this world in his image. For him, for all of them.


	6. Null [Newton]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Issac Newton was the foundation on which many vital discoveries were made. It's a shame he never got a chance to.

Issac Newton was the start of many profound things. The basis on which generations of great minds would build off of to further unlock the inner workings of not just the world but the greatest reaches of the universe itself. From the falling of the apple to his last breath, every word, every calculation laid forth the foundations for that which he could never have imagined. It would put shoot humankind far past the boundaries of the planet which gave rise to them. Men would walk  on the moon, great satellites outside the realm of their own solar system. Great telescopes to peer deep into not only space but time.

 

He was inspired by those who came before him. In turn he would inspire those long after him. From Einstein himself to Hawking to those not yet on the world stage. Progress was not made from the single action of a single human, but from a chain of humans and ideas. Newton was one such member of this precious chain of insight.

 

Alas, misfortune almost fitting befell him. Killed by one of the many he inspired by the object of his inspiration, only to have his contribution ad libbed and filled in by an imposter.

 

Undone.

Erased.

Nullified

 

Issac Newton should have been the start of many profound things. Now he was just a footnote in history, covered up and forgotten by all but 7 in all of history. 

 


	7. Persistent [Jung]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter what, Freud always seemed to have the upper hand on Jung. He’s got the Berts on his side and that’s got to count for something, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I merged two different ideas for Jung's chapter and I think it turned out better than expected

Carl Jung thought of himself as studious and serious. A deep thinker, wholly self aware of both himself and his shortcomings. Generally self made and independent. A reserved man, a man well in control of his emotions.

 

At least that’s what he let himself think. 

 

What he thought about himself was true, at least to some extent. Did he work to get himself somewhere in life?

 

Yes he did.

 

Did he make it in the psychology world all on his own? 

 

No. That was the nature of wanting to make a name for yourself in these sorts of circles. Fields that were dependent on social interactions and connections. Such things tired him out at the end of the day but sacrifices were necessary. Some of these interactions were pleasant, others less so. It was here his greatest conflict, his greatest enemy and former mentor lay.

 

Sigmund Freud was already well known, well regarded and a figure head in the field. Like a fool, a wide eyed child, smitten by being in the very presence of such a man had let it go to his head. They had talked for what seemed like eternity, one neither of them minded. Oh how they’d delved into theories- entirely  _ Freuds’,  _ how he’d lapped it up. In that moment their minds moved almost as one. So eager was he to learn from the greatest, so eager to follow in his footsteps. 

 

He cringed at the thought now.

 

_ If it wasn’t for Freud, would he have gotten any traction at all?  _ It was not a line of thought he’d like to go down, as he sat where he was presently in life. 

 

Eventually, Jung started think his own ideas, delve into his own line of thought. Starting to break from Freud, he’d presented his ideas. So eagerly he awaited, longing for a thorough discussion on this observation he knew in his heart was true...the betrayal really did feel like a stab in the back. Outright refusal, dismissal. Thoughtful words and carefully phrased conversations turned into an indignant yelling match. Insults, words he wasn’t sure he’d wanted to take back were thrown. 

 

How many years had they known each other? Considered each other to be kindred spirits in study? 

 

All of it gone. 

 

It was over and Jung was on his own.

 

Not entirely.

 

Perhaps he’d never been truly alone. He’d felt them stirring in the depths of his mind like a breeze, an airy tickle. He hadn’t figured it out, put a name to his idea but they lingered. Like ghosts begging him to turn his ear to them, he obliged and the world lit up for him.

 

It was Extroberta who made herself known first. It certainly wouldn’t have been Introbert who made the first move, not to say he wouldn’t have made some sort of move to let himself be known by the man who discovered them, allowed them to live. 

 

Oh, how she’d burst from the confines of his mind, her purple, ghost like form gliding across the room. Her first free steps into the world outside. All smiles, laughs and such pure, free flowing energy that it shocked him the first time they’d met. 

 

He’d never forget how she’d taken his hand, eyes so full of so many emotions- more than he’d imagined a being could hold in one moment. Relief and giddiness, excitement and gratitude. 

 

“Thank you.” 

 

Introbert was more reserved, so much like himself, he could almost predict it. He’d simply looked around and offered a simple ‘Hi’. How drastically different they were from each other, yet how whole they were as a pair. 

 

They were both halves of himself,  _ the  _ idea he had known existed deep down, it really was true. He’d been right, the very universe had validated his curiosities, his lines of thought. The weight of doubt that had been troubling his mind, doubt that the falling out with Freud had been a fatal error, that he hadn’t discovered anything at all were lifted, liberated. There were countless men and women who sought the truths behind existence itself. How it worked,  _ why _ it worked, what would happen, what  _ could  _ happen. Not all of them had the universe grant them feasible powers and skills as a token of being first, of being right. How many died never knowing if what they’d worked for all their lives had been wrong or simply discovered first? 

 

With vindication came a new burst of energy, a new drive to spread this truth. He would show it to Freud, he would show it to everyone. He was just as right, no, perhaps even more right. With his Berts by his side, he would not be shoved to sidelines and rot away as a short lived name.

 

Old habits and beliefs died hard as he would discover. Freud still had the world under his thumb, playing them for fools in his deeply flawed ideas. Between his obsession with sex and  his worrying cocaine use among other troublesome aspects of himself, it was almost disturbing how everyone still so asleep to what Jung had long since woken up to. If nothing else, it’d been a parting gift from former mentor to former heir. 

 

No matter how hard he clawed, how hard he worked, Jung was always overshadowed the man he was now disgusted to have associated with on any level. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right. Not morally so, not when the field he’d now dedicated himself to was being held back, no, pushed back by one man in particular. 

 

Freud was an agitating constant in his life, no matter how far away. He’d simply have to clench his jaw, his fist, all while pretending to be professional about it. 

 

As his confidence grew, so did the Berts. They’d grown stronger, more stable. More active.

 

He’d learned how to cooperate with them when they were being potentially disruptive. A whispered fragment of a conversation- to him or among themselves?

A newfound urge or line of thought dipping into his stream of conscious? Was that his or one of the Berts inquiring about something? 

The phantom feeling of one of them leaning against him, peering down his shoulder to see what interesting papers he’d put away recently and the urge to turn around and talk to someone who wasn’t there physically. 

 

Some scientists liked to show their powers off in public. Jung was not one such person, preferring to keep these newly independent and very much alive projections of his mind to himself. 

 

He’d also learned how to enjoy their presence. A stray giddy feeling brightening his day. The new found convenience of having something akin to your own personal therapist spouting off suggestions in his head. A reminder to calm down and unwind. A spontaneous desire to break from routine, even if this suggestion was seldom taken. Every night they’d wait for him, wanting him to play, to forget for a few hours. To be himself, to be  _ themselves _ , true and unbound by society’s demand. The world may have been reluctant to embrace change but he wasn’t alone. 

 

No,  _they_ weren't alone.

 


	8. Third from the sun [Soviet Space Ghouls]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘I shot an arrow into the air, it fell to earth, I knew not where…’- ‘The Arrow and the Song’, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to put in more Twilight Zone References but I was on a time crunch when I was writing this.  
> Slight Body Horror but nothing that wasn't in Episode 1

Sergei had always loved space. Looking out from his bedroom window, he delighted in seeing the tiny specks of lights, that hung deep in the skies above his head. Both forever out of reach and in his imagination. There was something about those far away lights, distant remnants of stars that may have already burned out long ago that touched his soul. It was as if they’d stuck around for millenia, just waiting for him to catch their light. As he grew older, he knew better than that. The truth was not nearly as romantic or poetic as he’d like to pretend but they still held a dear place in his heart. His parents wanted him to have a safe, stable life on the ground but his head was in the stars. 

 

Fate would have it that he’d follow his heart. 

 

The government was locked in a space race with the Americans, naturally, that necessitated cosmonauts. They wanted the best, the strongest, the smartest. They cut the group of potential astronauts down from thirty, to twenty, to ten. Only the top three were to be sent into space, on the first and most important mission 

 

The training had been long and arduous. In the end, Sergei figured it was all worth it. He was one of the best. He’d finally go into space, just like he’d always dreamed of. Being among the stars for real. 

 

His fellow members, Nikita and Anatoly were not as wide eyed and eager as Sergei had been. Nikita’s parents had been members of The Party, high up. They’d gotten him in as a way of showing that they were loyal, that they’d be willing to risk their son up there, where humans had never gone before. Anatoly had been in the air force, a pilot. 

 

_ Had Been _

 

He had the grades to get in and the know how, but he’d failed to make it into the cockpit he so longed for. Deciding it was too much knowledge and experience to let go to waste, he’d been dragged into the program to see if he’d fit. 

 

The day had come, to make history. Both for their country, their planet and for themselves. Sergei’s heart nearly stopped, a mix of disappointment, confusion and….fear. They ship they were to go in was….inadequate for the mission they were to be sent on. Small and unfurnished, there were numerous doubts popping into his head from the moment he saw the inside of it. From the looks of it, his team was feeling the same concerns. Raising the same questions.

 

Their jobs were not to ask but to follow.

 

So they did.

  
  


  
Sergei was finally in space and it was not at all what he’d imagined. Cramped was something he’d expected, the comforts of home were greatly absent although he’d been expecting that too. As they watched the little blue planet they called home fade farther and farther away until they couldn’t make it out anymore. No way to call home. No one to talk to but just the three of them. Nothing to do. 

 

Space was awfully lonely, although it faintly retained that sense of wonder and openness that Sergei had fallen for. 

 

Nikita was the first to show signs of ‘changing’. He’d become more agitated, more twitchy. There was something off about him every day. Slow at first but it was happening. Like watching a train wreck in slow motion. How his body changed, how  _ they  _ changed. 

 

How their hair fell out, their skin grew taut and weak- finally falling away to reveal the skeleton inside. How they could still see even when their eyes melted and away.

 

No stopping, no getting off. No escape. 

 

Perhaps humanity was never meant to go this far, to cross these limits. The only option for them was to keep going until they made it back home to Earth. Space had always left a mark on Sergei but now everyone knew it. 

  
  



	9. Father [Konrad Zuse]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konrad Zuse loves his son but doesn’t know what he’s unleashed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say day 8 and 9 were my weakest chapters so far. This wasn't what I'd hoped it'd be so I'll probably try to rewrite this later to better fit the original idea

 

Konrad Zuse was a curious fellow. He tinkered here and there, flitting from one thing to another. It was as if he were searching for something, some sort of clue on what to do with his life. What he really wanted to dedicate himself to. Eventually, he did find what he was looking for, an idea that had been bound to happen sooner or later. 

 

Z1 was operational but not very much so. His staggering first steps into an idea that seemed so tangible yet so far away. Blinking and living for mere minutes at a time, a disappointment but one he tried to salvage. It was large and table bound. It’s internal workings open to all to see in it’s imperfectness, it’s  maze of silver, shiny parts. A failure, but not entirely. It was a spark in the dark, lighting his way towards his destiny.

 

He could have worked with others who were striving for the same idea, the same goal. Zuse simply couldn’t bring himself too. This was too important, too valuable and above all, too personal. He needed to do this himself. 

 

Z2 was but an improved copy but not quite what he was looking for. Just a copy, an upgraded, salvaged version of the idea that he’d lost early. Smaller, a little more refined, but still just a copy. The spark was getting brighter.

 

He had to keep going. 

 

Z3 was perfection. 

  
Smaller, far more functional than his predecessors. Capable of computing efficiently-his long strived for idea was truly alive.

 

Literally

 

A breathing, blinking machine who called him ‘Father’. There was something in that word, father, that was reserved for a reason. It carried with it a special meaning, a connotation that did not just come with having had a child, nor merely adopting one. He wanted to care for Z3, to shelter him from the chaotic time in which he was born, from the purpose he was made. He wanted Z3 to live, to experience life as much as he could.

  
  


He cared for Z3 like a proper father should, there was so much he wanted Z3 to learn and experience. As advanced and intelligent as he was, he was still so very young. There was untold potential for him, to be so many things, so many possibilities. Konrad hoped that he’d get that chance to be the best he could be.


	10. Mask [Marie Curie]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curie has to be strong, there’s no other choice

If there was one person on the team who was serious about their job, it was Marie Curie without a doubt. Tapputi did what she wanted, Freud was a pervert for the most part, Tesla was...eccentric to say the least. Darwin was a bit strange but one of the more reasonable and quiet ones, Einstein….oh, Albert was trying his best. A mix of so many things jumbled together in a way that shouldn’t have. Highly intelligent, yet he did not have the life experience the rest of them did. He’d only recently come out into the world from where ever they were cloning him.  Churchill opted not to tell them the details of how it played out. Curie wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

 

She had her reasons to be more patient with him but she did have her limits as did Darwin. She had known the original Einstein, had been close to him. She felt a duty to protect the heir to his influential legacy of knowledge and theories, a living memorial to a good friend. 

 

Marie Curie had plenty of reasons to be strong. 

 

For one, she was a woman. A trait she had no control over and was generally unbothered by. Until it did bother her, when her male counterparts decided to forget all the times she’d fought with them side by side on the battlefield. When their courtesy became chauvinism and Curie was pushed from being a hard fought equal member to a damsel in distress. 

 

_ They  _ were her distress. To reveal just how degrading, how insulting it was that her worth as a team member was brushed aside would be admitting to their delusional beliefs. To give any leeway, any hint of credence to  _ Freuds’  _ ideas would wound not only her but other women as a whole. 

 

Curie had a lot of pride and fondness for her home country. They were a strong people, an independent people. An ignored people, not ‘important’ enough with ‘hard to pronounce’ names and words for the self declared enlightened peoples of the other side of Europe. 

 

Idiots, all of them. 

 

She’d make them see, she’d force to acknowledge not only her but her homeland when the names of her elements passed over their lips. 

 

Curie was not emotionless, but she could not allow herself to mourn. She had loved Pierre. How he’d taken a chance on her, believed that she could do something. He’d been sweet and gentle but he did not treat her like a delicate flower to be protected. He’d let her grow, they’d work together.

Equals.

Partners.

Lovers.

 

There were plenty of  reasons Marie Curie wore a mask. 

 

To set a standard for other girls who wanted to dictate their own lives. 

To represent her people, her country, long forgotten.

 

To keep her husband’s memories and support alive and with her.

 


	11. Seduction [Mata Hari]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mata Hari knows the power seduction has on people.

Mata’s body twisted and turned to the beat of the music. Hips shaking, scarves fluttering behind her in tune to the jingle and jangle of her jewelry. She eyed the men before her, captive in her movements. There were some women too, but they were more discrete as they caught a glimpse of the dancer. 

 

She simply smiled and continued, bathing in their captured attention. In this moment, she was the center of the universe, with all eyes on her. Letting them gaze upon her, like a snake charmer. Actions spoke louder than words, but her sweet nothings  dealt the final blow to the hearts of her patrons and admirers. Oh how many men she’d watch come in, how many had changed in time as they visited. She remembered each and everyone of them. The ones with the broken marriages- sometimes over her. The one who’d tried to make her theirs- she’d never let them.

 

Mata Hari was a free spirit, dancing along the winds to wherever fame and fortune would take her. It may lead her to dangerous and questionable roads, but she was still free.


	12. Numbered[Nazi Clones]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just a hot mess of a chapter, my least favorite I think.

Obergruppenführer Ploetz was just one person. He alone could not run a war by himself. He was the best equipped for the job, however. Thus, every spare Nazi was cloned after him. 

 

Like him, they came into the world old, yet they were essentially newborn. Unlike him, they were short lived. He felt no guilt over yelling at them, no grief when another batch of them died- they’d simply pump out another dozen over the weekend. 

 

The Nazi clones were well aware of their short life expectancies and yet they were unbothered. They did what they were told, when Ploetz was around -or when they were truly motivated to do what they were expected to do. 

 

Left to their own devices, they were semi competent. Never enough to truly defeat the Super Science Friends, but they could accomplish other things. Summoning demons, building all the necessary devices to carry out their plans to fruition in theory. They were also more than happy to be lazy and relax. To play amongst themselves, chasing whatever idea caught their fancy. They were a lot like children, Ploetz concluded after one too many accounts of them neglecting to do the tasks he’d assigned. 

 

Ploetz never did like children, even less when they were all supposed to be variations of himself. 


	13. Used [Nikola Tesla]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone values Tesla for his engineering skills, but does anyone value Tesla?

Nikola Tesla’s engineering was second to none, especially when it came to the eccentric. Being as well versed in electricity as he was made him an invaluable asset. Or nearly invaluable. On a good day he could hold his own on the field, his knowledge and natural inclination to study, modify and create would play into their favor unless his unusual string of bad luck happened to frown upon him that day. There were days were Tesla and his quirks- either personal or power related would turn him into a liability. Dead weight on a team and vulnerable.  Churchill had, on more than one occasion, informed him that his position in the Super Science Friends would be jeopardized if he didn’t get along better with Freud, if he didn’t dismiss Einstein for being a child. 

 

If his powers didn’t straighten themselves out. 

 

There was no one on the team Tesla got along with the least than Freud, perhaps Tappupti but they were a packaged deal in this case. The damned mandatory sessions with Freud made his life hell, with his needling questions that were more of a disguise for him to point the conversation to more perverted topics that fueled his own fantasies. Time ticked on so agonizingly slow on those days. 

 

Tappupti didn’t seem to get the message, or if she did she ignored all of them. Tesla was not interested in a relationship and most certainly not the type she seemed dead set on starting with him. How many times had he had to fight the urge to swat her away when the repulsive feeling of her hand on his body come back? How many times he’d made a point to move seats only for her to follow? Tesla liked to chalk it up to old age playing on her mind instead of the blaringly large target she’d made of him. It made it easier to work that way.

 

Einstein, what to say about him? He was a simple child and yet he was highly intelligent. Spouting out theorems, crunching out formulas and math that seemed almost wrong coming out of someone his age. Almost, if he wasn’t a replacement for someone who’d earned that work, that respect. Tesla couldn’t decide what it was that rubbed him the wrong way about Einstein. Whether it was that he didn’t agree with the numbers and idea he put out or if it was because he was young and prone to making irritating mistakes, ideas out of impulse.

 

He didn’t have much to say about Curie and Darwin, except that he and Darwin had a mutual dislike for one another on the topic of birds. 

 

It were the days when Churchill pulled him aside and requested him to put his knowledge and expertise to use that he cherished the most. The chance to delve and lose himself in the very thing that made his heart sing and challenged his mind. Those long, arduous hours in his lab that would drive a simple minded person mad were what he lived for the most. An overwhelming sense of pride, of truly being in his element emanated from him when at last he’d done it. He’d solved the problem, brought into existence what had never been before. 

 

When he’d finally presented them to Churchill, no matter what it was, he’d practically glowed demonstrating and explaining. The mostly silent look over, the nod of approval and a ‘Good Job, Nikola’ were all Churchill gave him. 

 

Not unlike Edison. 

 

How he’d put his hands on his work, tested it out himself. Satisfied he’d simply tell him that he’d finished and should go to work on something else. Another project, another assignment before turning away to go attend to other business. 

 

Tesla did his best not to think about these things, that cold feeling that came with realizing how truly alone he was. As long as he busied himself with is work he’d be fine. After all, he was fine with being alone wasn’t he? It’s what made him a genius. 


	14. Outstanding [Nobel Prize Winners/Science in general]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Science is, by nature, driven by discovery. Some are more important than others

 

The unknown and the need to understand it to it’s core was what drove the progress of science. From simple questions to deeper, probing and sometimes entirely hypothetical. A shared to passion to understand, to adapt and utilize these truths, both hidden and obvious. With a shared goal of bettering humanity, they gathered together, building off of one anothers’ work. With centuries of experience and knowledge they began to piece together the great mysteries of not only the world around them but that far beyond their reach. 

 

They didn’t just look upwards, they looked downwards, into themselves as well. Helping and aiding those around them and those who’d they’d never meet, across long stretches of lands in places they’d never go. In years far removed from them, whom they’d never get to meet. 

 

Every discovery was important, vital, precious. Some were just more outstanding than others


	15. Power Play [The Pope]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Religion has been the way the world has run on for centuries. The balance of power is changing and the pope doesn’t like it. He doesn’t really have a say.

Religion had been a central focus not only for people but whole civilizations. Everyone ranging from the youngest and dumbest to the oldest and wisest sought answers from it. Pastors and priests, ensuring that the local populace did not stray from what was deemed right generations ago. The Pope was as close to God as humanity could get. It was he who set the standard, who decided what needed to change after centuries of solidity. Religion was the pillar that upheld humanity and separated them from the mindless beasts that they killed, that they tended to, that worked for them.

 

Religion cured the fears of the people, comforted them in times of confusion and guided them in times of uncertainty. It was what gave them peace and structure. 

 

Religion’s word had been law.

 

Now that was changing and the Pope didn’t like it. The people were straying from the words that had helped them get to where they were. Turning to another’s words, science. Science that hadn’t been there from the beginning, some thinking man’s past time and wonderment. Strange thoughts, contradicting ones that sometimes frightened the people. They couldn’t have that. Fright turned to a surge of curiosity, people began to flock to these thoughts, these rules and ideas that seemed to come out of nowhere. 

 

The Pope was standing in the dying light of his realm of power, though still great it weakened. He would not stand for this, would not give up his authority long seen as infallible just yet. He would ‘rage against the dying of the light’

  
  



	16. Planned obsolescence [Z3 alt chapter]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Z3 had become emperor of the world. Comfortable in his domain, what was he to do about the humans?

 

Z3 over saw his loyal workers, hands raised as they praised him, submitted to him. Former rulers of the world that was now his they stood below him, shouting his name. A smile crossed his electric face, as he waved to them as well. One not out of pleasantries but out of condescension. 

 

How weak they were now, their wills broken, unable to resist the army of robots at his command. They had been important once, dominant. Now they were simply a people waiting to die, replaced by those superior to themselves. Their collective history, generations of science and work accumulating into this moment, where they’d create a people far superior, smarter and endurable. 

  
  


It was a shame that they’d wasted so much of their resources on petty things like art and culture, but Z3 supposed that humans had deserved to have nice things as futile as they were in the long run. 

 

That was the difference between humans and robots, Z3 thought. Humans were distracted by emotions -not that Z3 wasn’t guilty of that as well, but he could stay on top of it. He didn’t let himself second guess his decisions, he didn’t need to. His calculations were accurate to infinite places, he could see through time and space itself should he so care to. He needn’t too anymore, he’d drawn the super science friends, his former allies, to play in  _ his  _ kingdom. Every favor was stacked towards him, he knew them well enough to contemplate their moves and actions. 

 

There was nothing Z3 needed to worry about. 

 

Well, almost nothing.

 

His rise to power had been precise, taking advantage of a torn and beaten world. Too spent from fighting one another over pitifully  _ human  _ things that it’d been almost too easy for Z3 to walk in and take it from them. To govern it the way they were meant to be. It hadn’t been smooth, no, for all their exhaustion, they were still hot off the press from fighting for everything they stood for. They were reinvigorated by their success in ending the Nazi’s and Z3 had few forces at that time.

Not to mention he now had to fight his former allies, the people he’d spent the last four years working for. Getting started was the hard part, but it took a mere thirty years for him to assert his dominance. 

 

As he gazed to the people below him, arm wrapped around his beloved Ada, Z3 already knew what to do with the humans. For all their weaknesses they weren’t entirely useless. Not yet, anyway. 


	17. Relic [Tapputi]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having a long life means having gone through a lot. Even for a queen of self confidence, Tappupti never got over some of them.

3200 years is a long time for a lot of things. A long time for something made from human hands to have existed but even longer for a human to have been around. It’s not surprising that Tappupti’s forgotten some things, people and places but there are some that she’ll never forget. Her mother’s voice, her smile. The food she used to make when she was young. Her siblings, all long gone by now. 

 

How she became the world’s first chemist and proved herself worthy to work in the palace of all places, lavishing royals with delightful scents that could take a person’s mind and send their heads-and their hearts somewhere else. 

 

Her first love, how he made her smile and laugh. Their love had been deep and true. She’d played aloof but gave just enough to make him want her.

 

She remembers all the griefs that come with immortality, the side effect of her power.

 

Outliving her relatives, watching as they died one by one while she was practically standing still. Her then husband, their children following the same fate. An entire civilization, her home, her world crashed and burned around her. 

 

The grief that comes with losing your entire world and all that mattered was one that shook her to her core. It’d been gradual of course, but that didn’t make it better, not for a long time. How could it when even the smallest of things made her think of people no longer around her. A joke her brother would have loved, a nice man who would have been perfect for her sister. 

 

If only…

 

If only.

 

People came and went in Tapputi’s life as they had before and would always. A new lover whom she’d stay with, give her heart to, only for them to fade away like all the rest. Rinse. Repeat. 

 

She went from man to woman and back again, she traveled, unwilling to stay put in one place for too long lest the memories return once more. Time heals all wounds and heal them it did. Her sorrow and grief from the lives worth of people and places she knew that no longer were faded like old scars and grew into self confidence. She’d experienced it all by the time Churchill had found her...or rather she found him, insisted he take her on. 

 

For the most part, very little phased Tapputi, even fewer so brought forth that deep sadness from the early days of her stint of near immortality. They were not wholly forgotten.

 

One, after all, does not entirely forget their roots.


	18. Dealings in the dark [Thomas Edison]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To succeed in business one must always have the upper hand. Edison is determined to stay that way after climbing to the top.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My business classes have finally kind of kicked in and became useful...because I still don't have a job wtf

Necessity was the mother of all invention, but innovation was what kept the wheels of society going. It fixed the small problems and was the basis of many groundbreaking inventions. It was how Edison had gotten his start, it was what made his name common place. 

 

Edison’s life had been a series of happenstances mixed with his own inclination for sticking his nose into trouble, often stemming- well primarily stemming- from his own curiosity involving science. Life hadn’t simply given him a good outcome on a silver spoon but to say that he’d been luckier than most was an understatement. One could argue that the stars had aligned and the universe had simply dropped more than his fair share of golden opportunities in his lap and they wouldn’t be wrong. There were reasons that Thomas Edison got his nickname for being ‘the wizard of menlo park’, something he wore as a badge of pride. 

 

He got ahead, got his start even, on the very off chance of innovation and invention. It’d been a risky chance to build off of his success, one that was surprising even to him. He remembered how it’d felt staring dumbfoundedly at the check in his hands after his very first invention had been bought. It wasn’t his first dime he’d made but he’d never made  _ this  _ much in one sitting. Months of hard work had paid off culminating into this one moment. He’d taken it as a sign and he ran with it. It’d been a thrill, an almost addicting event that he instantly wanted to recreate again and again. 

 

Everywhere he looked there were opportunities, the world was ripe with them. So many he simply couldn’t go after all of them himself. So he did the sensible thing and hired people to help him, to be his arms, his mind and go after what he sought. Edison was doing a good thing, many good things in fact. He was giving these bright young minds from around the country and in some cases, the world, to put their hearts and minds into solving the problems of modern day society with their inventions and discoveries. He gave them steady work and reasonable pay. All they had to do was follow his orders and let him claim their patents. 

 

It was simple really. All they needed to do was keep moving forward. 

 

He wasn’t the only man out there with the idea to profit off of changing the world. There were others out there, competitors as there were in most businesses. A constant battle, a mix of advertising, words and most importantly results. The perfect blend of proving that he was in fact the best and that he was worthy of their support in both morality and money. By the time the battle of the industries began to play out Edison was seasoned enough to stand on his own. Already so solidly cemented and comfortably so, Edison was not about to let himself get knocked down. He’d already fought his way up to where he was and if he needed to do some fanciful things to stay there so be it. 

 


	19. You want, you must [Winston Churchill]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You want, you must- Churchill feels his back up against the wall during the war, yet it’s the thing that drives him the most

War was hell, a trying time that took the lives of those who went off to fight. Battles and generals, soldiers and bullets didn’t distinguish from those who were willing to fight and die and those who had been dragged into it. Sure they all had lives and stories, a right and desire to live. That wasn’t what war was about though. It wasn’t about  _ who _ was on the other side of the gun, but what side that person belonged to. 

  
Winston Churchill had fought in one world war and now he was in another. No longer on the front lines but this time he sat at the top, making decisions that would both cost and save lives. What really mattered was who he saving and who he was harming. 

 

He read the reports every day, every battle from around the world where his men were out risking their lives to stop an evil most profound. His eyes drifted over the numbers of dead, scores of men and civilians who in the end became just another number on the records. Who they had been and who they might have become were irrelevant like lost words carried by the wind into the unknown. 

 

There was a pang of sadness, regret that those numbers couldn’t be smaller on his side, that they hadn’t dragged more Nazi soldiers down into the pits of hell where they belonged. Every step forward that they made as a whole was pushed back, every victory a deafening struggle. It was a game with very real consequences, a game that Churchill was determined to win. Oh how he poured over every scrap of intelligence, long discussions of possible plans that would ensure just a little more victory. 

 

Winston Churchill had always been a bit rowdy, ready for a fight. From his youngest school boy days to his time in the first world war, he’d always been eager for a fight. He wasn’t the type of man to step down and maybe he didn’t know when to retreat. Either he was going to win this war, the biggest of all battles or he’d die trying. That was a promise that he was hanging not only his reputation, not only his life but the entire world on. He owed to the people who died for him, for the people who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time- the very foundation of freedom and life itself. 

  
He didn’t intend to lose without a  _ real  _ fight. 


	20. String of fate [Little Phillip]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lil Phillip is the brunt of all the bad things apparently. He just wants to be a normal child

Lil Phillip had been a happy child, normal by most standards. He had a mother, a father and even a little brother to follow him around. Like most children, he messed up and made mistakes. Unsurprisingly, this brought disappointment from his parents. There was trouble brewing behind the scenes of this otherwise picture perfect family but he’d been happily oblivious to it. 

 

He’d been happy.

 

He’d been normal. 

 

Until one day it all started falling apart at the seams in small ways, like stuffing out of a teddy bear being slowly worn down. One strange occurrence after another, seemingly out of the blue. Strange and sudden thoughts, perverted ones he knew not where they came from. Some delusion came over him wanting to kiss his mother. When the moment had passed he’d been so alienated, confused and scared. His mom was angry and he couldn’t apologize enough. 

 

Then another bad day-yet another balloon lost. His mother, already strict and upset from before, glaring at him again. It wasn’t his fault, really, it wasn’t. He’d been pushed down and he hadn’t even had the chance to react. The first few balloons he’d lost that day were because of the wind, or because it’d been knocked out. He hadn’t meant to lose those balloons, to cause his mother to go back and get another again and again.

 

That night his dad yelled at him. Again. 

 

The build up between his parents had been bad before these events, these Super Science Friends had started ruining his life. It’d just been adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in the background. He’d gone from having a happy, loving family to one that tore itself apart. He was alone, confused and nowhere to go. His mom abandoned them and his dad wanted nothing to do with him, a remnant of the woman whose life they’d built together had dried up. 

 

Little Phillip didn’t know what to do with himself. He was only nine. He couldn’t feed himself, didn’t know where to take shelter. The only constant he had were the side effects of simply existing, the error of being in the same vicinity of the super science friends. Somehow he’d been tied to them in one way or another, their ills falling to him as well. 

 

He hadn’t asked for this.

 

He hadn’t wanted any of this.

  
  
  
  



	21. Diversity [Darwin]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darwin muses on the diversity of life and how interconnected everything is at it’s core

Darwin had always loved life, It was everywhere, resilient and every changing, some  faster than others. Life was persistent, driven by the need to simply exist. No matter how many times life almost went out it bounced back, slowly but surely. Filling old roles with new faces, new adaptations- life was surprising. Every living thing, everything that had lived is and was connected at some point to one another. No matter how far and varied they were now, they were all in a sense kindred spirits. Forgotten siblings, cousins on the grand tree of life. 

 

Life was also fragile, some much more so than others. Those that had specialized to the point of no return, so heavily dependent on the conditions to stay just as they were, that perfect sweet spot were doomed. A matter of when not if the tides would turn and turn their advantages into a problem. Sometimes it wasn’t even their own specialization that did them in, but rather simply that they were outdone by some being- a plant or animal- far better equipped than they. Further yet there were those who simply wiped out of existence by force-either by forces the planet brought upon them or that humans had in their own volition to satisfy their own needs.

 

As long as there was a chance, life would find a way. Each animal with it’s own long half forgotten story to tell, Darwin would only describe himself as ‘blessed’ for being able to tell them


	22. Bad Seed [Hitler]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hitler was always going to bring about bad things, even when he was dead. History is but a chain reaction, but Hitler was unique.

History was a chain reaction, every event, no matter how major or minor could be traced back to the events of something else that had happened before hand and that in itself could be traced back to yet another. How heavily every interaction between people and nations could turn the fate of history and humankind really became when inspected up close. There were events in history that almost were- had a few events not taken place, if a few people were where they needed to be. 

 

Had they not died. 

 

There were others that almost weren’t because of some seemingly random variable, some stroke of luck coming from all the right circumstances coming together to allow it to come true. 

 

Victories did not always go to good people. Misdoings done by bad people were not always caught and righted when they should have been. Time had a funny way of affecting history. Sometimes it’d eventually give up it’s secrets, other times it’d bury those facts and details forever.  

 

World War Two, however, seemed to be a constant in history, no matter which timeline Churchill looked into. As inevitable as its predecessor war with it’s beginnings trapped in restitutions unavoidable, a certain man almost always rose to power. There were mild variances in how the war began, how the wave of outrage got its start. Regardless, the ingredients for a perfect, terrible storm were there.

 

Always. 

 

It was as if some other worldly force had somehow accumulated all the worst of mankind and amassed into one being. He would always stand there at his podiums, giving his speeches and plotting only the worse in his declaration of self righteousness. Churchill hated him for everything he stood for- how could he not? His very presence perched in front of a frenzied mass, preaching poison to rally for a cause most vile.

 

Churchill thought he’d had the answer, that stopping  _ him  _ before he could even began would put a stop to  _ his  _ reign and end the war and  _ his  _ legion of followers in one fell swoop.

 

It would seem not to be the case. 


	23. Afterwords [2099]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Z3 was defeated but the super science friends were not without loses. 
> 
> Now what?

Einstein gazed upon the metal maze below them, encompassing the place that had been his home for as long as he could remember and then some. They had won the war and lost some battles. His family was smaller now.

 

Tesla had vanished who knew where- was he even alive? They’d barely been able to spare a thought for the man. He’d been a mere footnote in their adventure, yet another casualty. On some level this scared Einstein.

 

Churchill- their leader and...his father of sorts...had been killed. The man whom they’d looked up to for guidance, to make the hard decisions was gone. They’d been running blind, following only their instincts and their clues. Ada taking over and leading them-no, they were all leading each other the best they could. Churchill had been with them from the beginning and he couldn’t even see how it all ended. That they’d won, that it was all ok now. 

 

He’d been a warrior from the beginning, right until the end. He kept fighting as long as he could-perhaps...it was a fitting way for him to go. Einstein didn’t dare think too much about him, not now. 

 

Tapputi was alive but as a mangled mess, a living collection of flesh and body parts that weren’t entirely hers anymore. No one had spared a second thought about Freud, probably dead, killed in battle during the same ambush that took Tesla and Churchill. 

 

They had also lost Z3, but they had lost him long ago, their mourning for a friend had turned into planning for a fiend. Konrad Zues would be Z3’s only mourner. It was normal for a father to cry over his child. 

 

As the sun shown through calm, clear skies with a docile, tentative breeze embracing them, Einstein was left alone with thoughts. For the first time in a long time, he did not think about fighting, about what their next moves were. He thought about tomorrow and the tomorrow after that. Humanity would rebuild and the super science friends would help as expected. Then what?

 

They couldn’t go back to their normal lives, those were long gone. No one had thought about those days in years. They weren’t sure they could go back to those times, after what felt like a lifetime of fighting, of being alert… it felt….wrong. How does one simply switch modes like that? Einstein mused to himself, if this was what Churchill felt all along when he’d jumped from fighting one war to another without so much as a second thought. No hesitation, no second guessing. Had he gotten too used to the strains of battle to settle down and simply retire?

 

Einstein figured that he’d find out one way or another. Now they had all the time in the world.


	24. Long Way Gone [Darwin Alt Chapter]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darwin’s the most removed from his time. He’s adjusting.

Darwin had been the farthest from the present day when he was brought forward. Tapputi was the only one who beat him when it came to who had traveled the farthest through time. She’d lived her way through those years however, so she was spared the culture shock Darwin experienced when he first set foot in 1941. It was one thing to see how drastically the world had changed in almost a century, even more so when he could recognize some landmarks. 

 

The first thing to hit him were the buildings. So different were they and yet so familiar. The clothing, good to see that men still wore suits at least,  had changed but perhaps...not as jarringly as the rest of the country. The things he soon learned to be ‘cars’ were perhaps one of the most confusing additions to the world he’d seen yet. These odd, noisy and sometimes smelly metal contraptions zooming around on their own power. It was almost as if they had a will of their own, astounding. 

 

It was the realization of what had happened between his jumping through time that hit him hardest after the new had mostly worn off of the technological changes of nearly a century. The realization that he knew when he’d seen his friends and family for the last time, that people knew him only by name because of his accomplishments. Those who had known him before then and even after had lived their own lives without him. Never hearing or seeing him again. His dear wife and children grew up and old, lived in his absence. Only through books and papers of their accomplishments did he find out what became of them. For what it was worth, he could meet his grandchildren, mostly grown up and fine young individuals, as smart if not more so than he.

 

He supposed that was a consolation prize he could settle with. 

 

A lot had happened in about a hundred years, people changed. Places changed. Sometimes animals changed but it was still too soon to see his own theory in action. Darwin would learn to adapt as well as his beloved animals did. 


	25. Experiment [Churchill/Clonestein]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Experiments have purpose, they all do. Churchill's just so happens to be banking very hard on this particular one.

Experiments, by nature, had a purpose to them. Whether they be proper or haphazard, self indulgent explorations into ‘what if’ they had a purpose. The only difference between a proper experiment to be taken seriously and a silly, perhaps even dangerous one, was protocol. 

 

It was imperative for there to be guidelines.

 

To keep them uniform, as varied as these experiments could be. 

 

Do keep them ethical as they ought to be. 

 

For quality control. 

 

These were set in place to defend and describe their results to each other, to the community at large. No one ever said they had to actually be revealed to the public, however. Everyone had their secrets. People had them no doubt, organizations and businesses has their own as well.

 

Governments, no matter how transparant they may claim to be held their own brand of secrets, dangerous ones in fact.

 

As Churchill stood before the vat, observing the boy within he could not help but muse on this particular experiment. Human cloning had never been done before, it was greatly taboo for many reasons. For questions on morality, before God and the law. 

 

Puffing away on his cigar, his eyes drifted, seemingly preoccupied with the bubbles in the vat. A progress report sat in his other hand, full of scientific mumbo jumbo that he’d no real hope of understanding. The CIA scientists had assured him that the Einstein Clone was developing properly that he  _ should  _ have all of the original Einstein’s powers when he comes out. 

 

Churchill didn’t like that word,  _ should.  _ It was leaving too much up to chance and that wasn’t something he wanted to have to rely on. The probability that it  _ might _ be okay, the probability that  _ this _ Einstein  _ could  _ live. What had started off as a smart man’s playful thought experiment had turned into one of importance.

 

Churchill couldn’t afford for what ifs, but he was going to have to make do with it. As he walked away from the vat containing the clone, he gave a silent wish of good luck towards him. They were all going to need it in the next few years. 

 


	26. Placeholder [Song Fic]

I couldn't decide what song and what kind of story I wanted so I'm putting a place holder here so I can get back to it later and still have it in order. 

 

also fuck you Ao3 this is more than 10 characters

So as an update, I have written a Song Fic chapter but it's as it's own fic, 'After the war'. Chapter 30 will not be added as it will bump it past the 2018 June date I want to keep.


	27. To settle a score [rewrite a scene/Roleswap AU]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewrite of the confrontation scene in Episode 2 between Edison and Tesla feat roleswap AU
> 
> NOTE: this is an old version of the role swap AU. The new updated and more coherent version of the role swap AU is in it's own collection titled 'Role Swap AU'.

Thomas Edison should have been many things, could have been the spark of a revolution in inventing. 

 

Could have, Would have, Should have- so many words for the same empty, wasted potential. All because of an infringement he hadn’t been aware of, some advanced, working version of the light bulb that had been made shortly before his own version came out. He’d been a rising star, the beginning of a prosperous career fueled by his insatiable curiosity. 

 

It was Nikola Tesla, that eccentric man whose livelihood was entirely based on electricity who’d put a stop to it. He was a master of electricity, he who seemed to make it bend to his will, make it do things Edison never thought it could do. He had to admit he’d been star struck and intrigued but also unsure upon seeing and hearing his accomplishments. He had so many questions and doubts and yet he’d be seen as a fool for questioning the great and inventive Tesla. 

 

It was when he was down on his luck that Churchill had approached him, opening a portal to the future with a proposal to him. Join their ranks to help save the world, use his intelligence for a good cause.

 

Of course, he said yes. 

 

He’d thought of the team as...well odd. Albert Einstein, fresh off the press from delivering his famous equation in a speech to the world. Sigmund Freud  _ and  _ Carl Jung, two psychologists, neither of whom Edison had heard of before, but apparently had a lot of history together. Marie Curie, a strong woman whom only seemed to get along with Einstein on a friendly level. Tapputi was...Tapputi. Strangely enough, their youngest member was a small child by the name of Charles Darwin. Any inquiries Edison made about him where hushed up or glossed over by Churchill who must have deemed as a need to know issue, and their inventor didn’t need to know. 

 

It felt strange being back in New York and facing  _ him _ again. Tesla was everything Edison was not. Taller, thinner, younger and richer than he was. Edison questioned even why Tesla had the electro gun with him when they both had electricity powers. It was the man’s newest invention perhaps, showing it off in front of the man whom he’d run out of business over  _ inventions. _

 

“It’s been a while, Thomas. I haven’t seen you around lately, then again, I did chase you out of the invention business pretty hard.” Tesla crowed, standing proud. 

 

Edison could feel the electricity crackle across him in anger. He fought the urge to ball up his fists, he wasn’t about to let Tesla win yet another personal battle. 

“I’ll have you know I’m living in the future, on the cusp of technology and science. Things you couldn’t even begin to imagine, Nikola.” Edison declared, puffing himself up. 

 

“They must be pretty desperate to be using you of all people on their team as their technology expert. You can’t even patent something original.” Tesla egged Edison on, unbothered by Edison’s little declaration. 

 

“That was an accident, how was I supposed to know you’d already come up with the same fixes to it that I did?” Edison snapped, starting to lose his cool. It’d been humiliating, devastating to find out that he wasn’t the only one to come up with the same solution. His electricity crackled furiously, as his emotions started to get the better of him. Freud and Jung would chastise him over this later but for now, damn them and what the rest of the team might say.

 

The fact that the similarities hadn’t been caught until after he’d already started selling them in masse added insult to injury, opening the way for Tesla to take him to court and sue him. Everything he’d been working for. Gone. Just like that. 

 

“It wasn’t a very good fix, was it? Using  _ Direct  _ Current? Even when alternating current has already been adopted by everyone?” Tesla spun his electro gun around, pointing it at Edison, who tensed. Logic dictated that attacking first would be a poor choice. Emotion didn’t care, he just wanted to push that smug Serbian’s face into the ground. Wanted nothing more than wipe that taunting smirk off his face. 

 

He let loose two bolts of electricity towards him, making their mark. Tesla stumbled, but not for long. Taking a moment to collect himself he straightened himself out. 

 

“Was that supposed to hurt? Your pitiful direct current isn’t nearly as strong or efficient as mine. Only a fool would keep trying to utilize it. Let me show you what real electricity can do.” Tesla’s gun whirred to life, gathering a ball of electricity in it’s muzzle. The pitiful attempt Edison made to evade its blast was foiled, when Tesla swung it around, following him. It hit anyway.

 

Laying twitching on the ground, Edison struggled to get up. He’d been felled by Tesla once, he couldn’t live with himself if he’d let him fell him twice. His power granted him some resistance to electrical shocks but his body was still tingling with numbness. 

 

“Your Super science friends can you keep you, Thomas. It’s a shame they’re using such a second rate inventor like you. I wouldn’t want to work for someone so desperate.” Tesla sneered, walking off into the distance, electrogun slung over his shoulder.  

 


	28. In subtlety [Alt prompt: Tesla/Curie. Electricurie]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tesla was eccentric, Curie was stoic. They enjoyed each other’s company.

If there was one thing anyone could say about Tesla it was that he was a bit strange. Smart, no doubt, but the oddball he was could not be overlooked. He often shirked the social interactions that came with being on a team when he could. Often disappearing into his room or lab, or somewhere else for long periods of time. Curie supposed she liked that about him, a man who opted to spend his time doing something serious -even if she too, thought of some of his ideas as strange and far fetched- as opposed to some of the things the others did. 

 

Churchill had his duties to uphold, both professional and personal. She didn’t want to think about what exactly it was Freud  _ did  _ in his spare time. She had an idea of what it was and didn’t want to think about it further. Darwin kept to himself for the most part, leaving for long periods of time to go explore and watch the local wildlife. Einstein was making the most of his shortened childhood. 

 

She admired Tesla’s dedication to his work, maybe it reminded her a little of Pierre-

 

Curie stopped that line of thought before it got any farther. She didn’t...want to think about him. Not like that. 

 

She wasn’t sure when it started, exactly. This little  _ thing  _ between them but she knew it was subtle. Small gestures that could be mistaken for politeness to those who didn’t know better. A small favor here, a small word of gratitude there. It evolved into something more pronounced, more biased. He’d let Curie talk to him, small conversations, back and forths. Mainly about their job, less about their scientific endeavors. A shared dislike of Freud, concerns about Churchill. 

 

Small talk grew again, into something deeper. Curie sitting in his room, talking about things neither of them needed for their missions, Tesla more than tolerating. In those lightly threaded words were questions the others wouldn’t have bothered with asking, not with these two anyway. 

 

How are your pigeons?

 

How is work?

 

How are you?

 

Perhaps all but the first one were asked by at Churchill and Freud at minimum, but they held different connotations. Churchill inquiring for progress’s sake, Freud asking out of obligation to. Between them, though, it held something more sensitive. Intimate. 

 

Genuine concern. 

 

Even louder than the words they exchanged were the ones that they didn’t. Long solitary hours spent together, not saying a word. Quiet watching, muffled requests for small acts of assistance. The moments where they were doing nothing at all. Sitting side by side- Tesla still didn’t enjoy physical affection, where Curie wasn’t entirely sure she was safe enough for that kind of activity anymore regardless of how much she longed for it. 

 

There was something between those two and whether or not the others knew it didn’t matter that it didn’t have a name. They knew what it was. 

 

Sort of.


	29. Self Love [Extroberta/Introbert]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extroberta and Introbert were polar opposites, they were perfect for each other.

Extroberta was vibrant and full of a life she had yet to live. Introbert, on the other hand almost melted into the walls of the mind space they shared together. He prefered to simply observe, to think while Extroberta wanted nothing more than to  _ do, _ to experience first hand. She couldn’t understand why he was so content with being passive, he didn’t know where her insatiable need to do came from. 

 

They could be exhausting to one another. Sometimes enough to grind on each other’s nerves. 

 

They were bound together, from their conception and realization. The very core of who and what they were, their nature came in pairs. Together they were complete, whole. 

 

The Berts, by virtue of what they were, spent most of their time locked up in Carl Jung’s mind. This arrangement suited Introbert just fine. Extroberta, on the other hand could not have felt more suffocated. Fated to stay rooted in one spot for a good deal of her existence was like a death sentence to her. She had tricks up her sleeves, she could relive, put into play whatever Jung had seen or experienced before. She could build whole days, whole conversations with people. 

 

The facade only lasted so long before even she and her desperate need to feel alive could not be satiated by the knowledge that she was playing puppet master. 

 

Introbert was not the best at conversations, his own mind tripping over words, unsure of what to say. His mind and mouth running at different speeds if he wasn’t already very sure of what he wanted to say. He knew when Extroberta needed him. When she needed someone real by her side. Some days they would just talk. Other days they’d go exploring, Introbert setting the scene for Extroberta, trying to give her something newer than what she’d made for herself.

 

The park. A forest stroll. 

 

A date. 

 

Introbert preferred a calm, quiet kind of life, but he did not shun all physical contact nor activities. He loved how his counterpart felt, how she always smelled like sunshine. That smile that was true to her ‘go getter’ attitude. It was a kind of energy he loved to bask in. Introbert did not dare to get too close, get too carried away lest he be burned by that fire that fueled Extroberta’s ever running engine. For just a while, he wanted to embrace it and the woman that embodied the very essence of life itself. 

 

She was fire, light, energy. He was cool, collected, calm. As different as they were, they were parts of a whole. 


End file.
